Our Last Summer
by 2wingo
Summary: Alternative to "Zuko's Tale" from "The Tales of Ba Sing Se." Songfic. One-shot.


_**(A/N: It's been a while since I've seen "Tales of Ba Sing Se," so please forgive any discrepancies beyond the specific ones I've mentioned. This takes places right after the restaurant scene with Jin, only Zuko didn't tell her that he and Iroh were in the circus. Also, as I am a lieutenant colonel in the Zutara Army, I know that writing a Zuko/Jin fic is high treason. So, if my fellow Zuatarians wish to throw me in the brig for the rest of my days, please wait until you've Reviewed.)**_

**Disclaimer:** I do not own ATLA. If I did, we wouldn't have had to put up with the bullshit that was the first half of Season 3 and Zutara would be canon, not Kataang. I also do not own the song _Our Last Summer_. ABBA does. I do, however, own the original lyrics that appear within the song.

* * *

Ba Sing Se's fountain was beautiful at night. Zuko had to admit it. And, in spite of the fact that Jin had touched his hair (he hated having his head and face touched almost as much as he hated being called "Zuzu"), the evening had been . . . nice. Perhaps Uncle had been right.

"Lee?" asked Jin.

He grunted softly in reply.

"What did you and your uncle do before you came to Ba Sing Se?"

_Oh, no,_ Zuko thought to himself, _I hadn't thought of this. What can I tell her that is both satisfactory and noncommittal?_

"We were troubadours," he said quickly, "Uncle plays the sungi-horn, and I the liuqin." Zuko said a fervent prayer of thanks to Agni for the music lessons he'd had as a child.

"Wow, that's really cool," said Jin, "I'd love to hear you play, sometime."

Suddenly, a little boy walked down the way in a huff. "I'll never play this stupid thing AGAIN!" he screamed, and threw to the ground . . . a perfectly good liuqin.

"Wow," said Jin, staring at the lute with disbelief, "What are the chances?"

"Not good," replied Zuko. Nonetheless, he picked it up and started tuning it.

"I don't know very many songs," he admitted when he was finished, "but I do know one pretty well."

Jin leaned forward, ready to listen.

And Zuko sang the song. It was a beautiful song, one that brought his memory back to the happiest time of his life.

* * *

_It was shortly before Zuko's 5__th__ birthday. His parents, determined to make it special for their only son, took him and Azula to Paris, a magnificent city in the Southeast Fire Nation. He had so enjoyed walking through the evening streets with his family, and especially when his father carried him upon his shoulders. But the best part was when Ursa began to sing a wonderful song, one that seemed to fit them all._

_**The summer air was soft and warm  
The feeling right, the Paris night  
Did its best to please us  
And strolling down the Elysees  
We had a drink in each café  
And you  
You talked of politics, philosophy and I  
Smiled like I was drunk  
We had our chance  
Now it's a fine and true romance **_

_This was the last summer of Zuko's memory where his father had truly been a loving, caring man, so much more like Uncle Iroh than Grandfather Azulon._

_**I can still recall our last summer  
I still see it all  
Walks along the Seine, laughing in the rain  
Our last summer  
Memories that remain **_

"_Zuko, come with me," said his father the next morning. He lead him to a meadow next to a magnificent tower._

"_Do you see that?" he said to Zuko, "That is the Tower of Eiffel, to commemorate all of the brave Fire Nation soldiers who died for us." Zuko remembered being filled with both awe and anxiety. He asked his father if he would ever have to fight for the Fire Nation._

"_No, my son," said Ozai, "that is a job for commoners. But enough of this talk." Ozai removed from his voluminous sleeve a small instrument. Zuko remembered think it the best present ever._

_**We made our way along the river  
And we sat down in the grass  
By the Eiffel tower  
I was so happy we had met  
It was the age of no regret  
Oh yes  
Those crazy years, that was the time  
Of the flower-power But underneath we had a fear of flying  
Of getting old, a fear of slowly dying  
We took the chance  
Like we were dancing our last dance **_

_Azula had begun to get fussy, so Ursa returned with her to the inn where they were staying. That suited Zuko just fine. He was enjoying spending time with his father. They went to the sacred temple Notre Dame, honoring the Fire Ladies of the past. Zuko remembered being so tired from walking, that his father eventually picked him up and carried him._

_**I can still recall our last summer  
I still see it all  
In the tourist jam, 'round the Notre Dame  
Our last summer  
Walking hand in hand **_

_What Zuko hadn't known was that Ursa and Ozai would sneak away when the children were sleeping and stand together in the moonlight._

"_I feel weary, Ursa," said Ozai, "I know I don't look it, but I'm beginning to feel it in my heart. Father asks so much of me, and I'm not even crown-prince. How can Iroh endure him without his soul being crushed?"_

_Ursa responded by kissing him. Ozai felt his heart-wrenching pain fall away, and for a moment, they were the only ones there. The sun would rise soon, and Ursa had begun to grow fond of the strange breads it was custom to take at every meal._

_**Paris restaurants  
Our last summer  
Morning croissants  
Living for the day, worries far away  
Our last summer  
We could laugh and play **_

_The two of them stopped on their way to their bedroom to see Zuko. He was still sleeping, but he had the biggest smile they had ever seen. Ursa stayed long after Ozai was gone._

_**Ozai:**__** And one day, he'll be a ruler**_

_**This young princeling, a mighty king**_

"_**Fire Lord Zuko" **_

_**Ursa:**_ _**How dull it may seem,**_

_**But you'll fulfill your father's dream **_

_But it couldn't last. When they returned, Azulon became worse than ever. It was as if he sensed the new tenderness in Ozai, and was determined to beat it out of him. He forced Ozai to be by his side almost every minute, and endless drilled into him the values of the royal family. Bit by bit, Ozai became like his father, and no longer showed Zuko the love and affection that he once had. He much preferred Azula, who had already begun to show ruthlessness. Now all he had were the memories._

_**I can still recall our last summer  
I still see it all  
Walks along the Seine, laughing in the rain  
Our last summer  
Memories that remain **_

* * *

When Zuko stopped playing, he realized that Jin was crying.

"That song is so beautiful," she said, sniffing, "but it's so sad."

_You have no idea,_ thought Zuko, realizing that he was on the verge of tears himself. He then noticed how close Jin had gotten to him on the bench.

He looked into her eyes. She looked into his. And then, they kissed.

After walking her home, Zuko entered his own dwelling to find his uncle still up.

"Well, how did it go, Prince Zuko?" he asked jovially. Zuko responded by going straight to his room and closing the door.

Iroh sighed. But then Zuko opened the door a crack and said, "It was nice."

* * *

_**(A/N: Since most of Southeast Asia was influence heavily by the French at some point, it's not SO far-fetched that they could have cities with French-sounding names, right? Please review.)**_

FINIS.


End file.
